I Want You
by spoiledpuppy
Summary: Alfred, an indentured servant who works for the Bonnefoy family, finds himself stuck with a less than favorable companion when a séance goes wrong. AU IvanxAlfred
1. The totally NOT terrified hero

**This is my first Hetalia fanfiction, so… yeah hope you guys like it. At the moment I haven't decided on any other side couplings other than ArthurxKiku.**

** I watched Paranormal Activity 3 recently and the idea for this fic got into my head somehow. This is in no way a take on the movie series, not a Hetalia version, or whatever. Alright? Ok then. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own, in any way, any Hetalia characters that appear in this fanfic. **

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><p>"Some mighty hero you turned out to be." Matthew commented drily as his brother cowered behind him, his sibling's fingers digging into the back of his shirt.<p>

"Sh-shut up!" Alfred's voice was squeakier than he meant it to be as he retorted, "I-I'm just letting the enemy think I'm scared. Yeah, I'm going to freaking sneak attack them when their g-guard is down!" With that, the normally boisterous young man ducked his head back down as his brother sighed.

Matthew decided to let his brother maintain his dignity as they continued down the shabby path towards the garden shed. Ratty weeds had grown past the boundaries of the pebbled trail, making the trail seem almost nonexistent around the more overgrown patches. High above them, the moon's sadistic grin failed to light their route adequately, which was why they had to carry a lantern to pierce the darkness. The fact that the meager light waned whenever there was a breeze caused Alfred's fragile bravery to leave whenever a shadow looked too much like a human figure.

Alfred had always been too paranoid about ghosts for his own good, of course bog beasts didn't scare him but if even so much as a breeze caused a branch to scratch against the side of the servants quarters he would shriek and hide under his bed.

Their employers, the Bonnefoys, had gotten so annoyed with his antics that they had stuck Alfred in separate sleeping quarters since otherwise all of their servants would be too exhausted to work diligently the next morning. This arrangement had not exactly made Alfred's problem worse or better in any way, but it certainly was nice for the rest of the staff to be able to sleep peaceably.

The only reason they probably had not been fired yet was because they were diligent workers. When the Bonnefoys had come to the British colonies a little over a year ago, the twins had been looking for work to earn money at the time. They had been saving to buy a patch of last further west to start a farm and indentured servitude seemed like a good option at the time.

Alfred wondered why he had let himself get talked into this situation. He had been minding his own business, just tending to one of the horses, like normal, when Gilbert strutted up to him and told him that they were going to talk to dead people or something like that.

He tried to be mature and straightforward when telling him that he did not want to. 'Hell no' should have been answer enough. However, the albino jerk had begun questioning his manhood and started mocking him. There was no way Alfred Jones was going to let that off-color ass make fun of him, no way in hell! Therefore, without thinking it through, he had agreed to come to the dead people conversing-a-thon.

Of course, he couldn't come alone, that would be like asking Gilbert to ambush him on the way there. That was why he asked -forced- Matthew to come with him. So now, here he was in front of the door to the barn and he definitely was not trembling. If anyone said he was trembling, they would be wrong because he was not shaking like a leaf and hiding behind his twin brother like a coward. Heroes are not cowards; anyone who said so was a liar. Gilbert was a liar, because Alfred was not afraid of anything.

"Alright, we're here!" He finally uncurled his fingers from Matthews shirt and moved to stand beside him, hands on his hips as he built up his courage-not that it ever left- and continued, "I can't wait to see that jerk's face when I show him how not scared I am!"

Matthew took in his brothers shaking body and patted his shoulder, "We can just leave." Really, they had to work tomorrow, he'd much rather be asleep right now. His older brother shook his head, his cowlick bobbing with his movements as he replied.

"No way! We can do this! We are just talking to c-c-corpses. Yeah, we can do it." Alfred did not look as confident as he sounded as he moved to open one of the barn doors. Just when his fingers grazed the handle, the door suddenly swung outwards.

"A-Alfred!" Matthew yelped as the door collided with his brother's head. Multi colored stars and stripes swam past Alfred's vision as he landed on his back, the dirt doing nothing to cushion his fall. His mind hazed with pain as both the back and front of his skull throbbed angrily.

He had just lifted his head up to touch the back of his head with tender fingers when Gilbert's head emerged from around the door. The albino took one look at the blonde-haired person sprawled on the ground and began cackling, shocking Matthew into silence.

"I was wondering what that loud, hollow noise was!" He managed to choke out as he continued to laugh at Alfred's expense.

The blond felt his cheeks heat up from embarrassment and annoyance, mostly annoyance, and quickly got to his feet. He ignored the dizzying sensation that racked his brain and brushed past Gilbert to enter the barn, feeling Matthew follow him in he stepped confidently into the building.

Several lanterns were set up around the barn, casting eerie shadows across the hay-strewn floor. Bales of the stuff were stored on the upper floor of the building and every once in a while a rebellious stalk would flutter down from above to join its brethren on the ground. Lines of shovels, pitchforks, and other equipment were lined up along the walls of the barn.

In the center of the barn there was a small table set up with a gathering of mismatched stools, boxes, and some battered chairs circled around it. Three tall white candles flickered in the center of the table, adding a mysterious element to the setting. There were already several people seated and at Gilbert's laughing, they had looked up to see the twins enter. Peter and Arthur Kirkland's blond heads were the first thing Alfred noticed. He was not all that surprised to see them, Arthur was notorious for sneaking out of the servants quarters past curfew. It would not have been that hard for him to get Peter, his younger cousin, out too. Not that that is really saying much, even Matthew could get out without being noticed. Nevertheless, maybe that is giving them too little credit since his twin was practically a ghost himself sometimes.

Also seated on one of the boxes was a dark haired youth that Alfred did not recognize. He then remembered his brother saying something about a guy from the east having been hired recently; apparently he had been captured by pirates, or something like that, and had escaped his captors before stowing away on a boat to the colonies.

He had not really been listening to his brother, but now that he thought about it the guy's story sounded like it could be interesting. Though probably half of his facts were wrong, that did not stop him from eyeing the strange newcomer.

Peter giggled and pointed at Alfred's forehead, "What happened to you?"

"That idiot hit me with the door when I was about to open it." Alfred complained, pointing over his shoulder in Gilbert's general direction as he claimed one of the stools next to Peter. Matthew was aiming for the box next to his brother when Gilbert swooped in and claimed it, leering at Alfred as Matthew settled for the box next to the dark haired Asian.

"Who're you calling an idiot?" Gilbert asked as if he considered himself above such insults as he sat down next to Alfred.

Before Alfred could reply, Arthur cleared his throat. "Can we please begin the séance before one of you becomes_ available_ for communication from beyond the grave?"

Gilbert barked out a laugh but complied with the request and turned in his seat to look at the dark haired Asian. Alfred felt himself relax before throwing the Briton a look that said he could have handled the situation. If Arthur had noticed the look, he did not outwardly show it and focused his attention on the lantern in the middle of the table.

"Kiku, would you do the honors?" Arthur said stiffly as he stood and walked to a lantern on the floor nearby. As he began to dim the lanterns around the barn the dark haired youth, Kiku apparently, nodded and turned his attention to the others at the table.

"We are about to open a channel to the spiritual realm, our goal tonight is just to see if contact can be established." Kiku's accent—while a little strange—was understandable, and Alfred wondered when the easterner had learned English. A strange smell began to waft into Alfred's nostrils and he glanced away to see that Arthur had lit something in an odd bowl that was sitting on a nearby crate. The Briton waved his hand lightly above the bowl to stir the air before moving on to the next lantern.

"Please do not speak while someone else is speaking, do not speak if I do not motion to you, do not break the circle or put out the candles at any time, and, most importantly, remain calm. Negativity sours the connection and can draw less than favorable visitors.

"You are perfectly safe in the circle; spirits cannot hurt you, so keep this in mind. Nothing other than your hands should be touching, so if you are too close to someone right now please move now to avoid complications later." Alfred considered scooting away from Gilbert out of reflex but decided not to.

He was a little nervous already, even if Kiku said for them to be calm. The barn was getting dimmer and dimmer, as Arthur put out or adjusted the lanterns and already he was feeling a tingling sensation wind up his spine. As he tried to relax Kiku's eyes flicked to him and as Arthur rejoined them he grabbed the Briton's sleeve.

"Is he suitable to be in the circle?" He asked Arthur, gesturing to the squirming Alfred, "He seems… easily frightened."

Alfred caught the last words uttered and puffed out his chest, "I'm not a chicken! C'mon, let's get this show on the road already!" He said as confidently as he could muster. Kiku blinked at his statement and after a moment, he sighed. Seemingly resigned, he let go of Arthur's sleeve to let him sit down next to him, but the anxiety he felt was clear on his face as Arthur continued for him.

"I will be acting as medium tonight in Kiku's stead, he, as host, will be in charge of the séance and will direct you when to speak. Now, take the hand of the person next to you so we can begin."

Alfred took Peters hand without a second thought but when he met the eyes of the albino next to him, he paused and slowly reached out, lightly touching Gilbert's hand with his index finger as if the Prussian was infected with smallpox.

"Alfred! For crying out loud, stop being a child and hold his hand!" As Arthur scolded him Gilbert began batting his eyes at Alfred, grinning all the while. The blond colonist scowled and complied, trying to cut off the flow of blood to Gilbert's fingers. While the two of them fought their silent battle Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes, feeling the tension coming from Kiku building he cleared his throat.

"If there will be no more interruptions, let us begin."

ooOoo

Alfred glanced up from under his lashes at the others. Gilbert and he had finally stopped trying to break each other's hands when Arthur had begun the séance. Right now they were supposed to be "clearing their minds" and "tuning themselves into the spirit world". But after a few minutes he had gotten bored and had opted to watch everyone else.

His brother's face was calm, almost as if he was asleep. Gilbert was grinning to himself, for whatever reason, and he could have sworn he heard him chuckling about something at one point. Arthur's face was concentrated, as if he was trying to ignore something. The Briton had always been prone to hallucinations. Alfred had known the two Kirklands for almost a year, since the day Arthur and Peter had come to work for the Bonnefoys after they came to the colonies. Peter was very energetic and always looking for attention and Arthur was in love with his country to the point where it was weird.

It made Alfred wonder why he came to the colonies if he loved Britain so much. He shrugged off his curiosity and looked down at Peter next to him; the younger Kirkland had a focused expression as if he was trying his hardest to channel something. Alfred held back a laugh and looked over at Kiku. The dark haired youth's face was serene, yet somehow focused.

Without warning, Kiku's eyes opened and his brown eyes met Alfred's blue ones. Realizing that he had not been "convening with the spirit world" like he should have been he quickly ducked his head and shut his eyes. If it was even possible, he felt a wave of disapproval from the other part of the circle.

Alfred let his body relax, the silence becoming more soothing than creepy as time went on.

"If everyone is now calmed," Arthur began, Alfred peeked before lifting his head to make sure it was alright first, "Let's now call a spirit to the circle."

At that moment, his stomach sank to his toes. Kiku closed his eyes.

"We humbly call restless spirits to join us. Are there any beings here that wish to communicate with us tonight?" His calm voice filled the air as everyone held their breaths. Alfred felt his heartbeat quicken as his eyes darted around the room. Next to him, Peter glanced around as well but the young Kirkland seemed to be getting bored more than anything.

After a moment of silence Kiku repeated himself. Alfred was about to look at the ceiling again, just checking to make sure there wasn't a ghost up there about to drop onto them, when both Arthur and Kiku stiffened. After a pause he noticed that Peter's hand was trembling.

That was when he noticed the prickling sensation traveling up his arm from their conjoined hands; it was an iciness that left goose bumps in its wake. He shivered as the chill passed through him into Gilbert. From the looks of it, the cold sensation was traveling through both sides of the circle since Matthew was already shivering. If it was possible, the flames on the candles in the center of the table seemed to shrink as if they too were feeling the change in temperature.

Kiku looked at Arthur uncertainly; the Briton was scowling at the candles at the center of the table.

"Who is here in the circle with us?" Kiku asked.

Somehow, that question made Alfred even more scared. He tried not to visibly gulp and drew back from the table, his progress hindered by his connected hands. He felt a prickling on the back of his neck that did not have anything to do with the cold. It felt like something was… looking at him. His breath hitched and he sat straighter on his stool.

"Who has joined us?" Kiku asked again as Arthur closed his eyes, his shoulders jerking. Everyone's eyes, already glued on Arthur, leaned forward unconsciously as the Briton hunched over the table. Alfred remained where he was though, the feeling of being watched scaring him into a stationary position.

Slowly, Arthur raised his head back up. However, when his eyes opened the green irises focused immediately on Alfred, a creepy smile forming on his face. The problem was: Arthur never smiled, his ass was stuffed with so many sticks it was not possible!

Kiku looked toward Alfred before freezing, his brown eyes focused on something behind him. Alfred watched as everyone else looked past him, their eyes widening.

"Alfred!" Matthew whispered, his voice was softer than it usually was. Even Gilbert looked horrified at that moment.

Kiku met his eyes and shook his head.

'Don't move,' He mouthed. Those words made Alfred want to turn around even more.

It felt like something brushed up against the back of his neck, a finger? That thought caused a whimper to sneak out of his throat. A ghost- a ghost was touching him! Why did it have to a ghost? Why him? Why not Gilbert! He tried to think of anything else but whatever-it-was behind him.

"What do you want?" Kiku asked loudly, looking at Arthur who was still staring at Alfred with that creepy smile.

The finger that was on the back of his neck slowly traced forward along his jaw, and Alfred shivered as it came to rest under his chin. Out of the corner of his eye he couldn't see anything touching him, but could feel a hand pressing against his throat and jaw. What must have been the thing's arm brushed against his shoulder and he struggled not to scream and throw himself across the table to get away.

Peter's hand trembled in his as Alfred tried not to hyperventilate. A thumb rubbed his jaw as fingers settled along the bottom side of his chin. The fingers jerked upwards, forcing Alfred to look up. He winced at the sudden movement and shut his eyes briefly.

**'You.'** The word filtered into the back of his mind, an unfamiliar voice accompanying it.

Alfred opened his eyes out of confusion. Above him were two glowing, purple orbs. Eyes. No figure, no shadow, no body, just a set of eyes staring down at him. The inhuman glow would've been enough to scare the shit out of him any day, but the fact they were bodiless and directed at him made his heart stop.

**'I. Want. You.'**

The words sounded out in his mind as if the speaker was not used to English. The fingers on his throat tightened slightly as the eyes started to dip down towards him.

"K-Kiku!" He stuttered out, still frozen into place.

Kiku quickly leaned forward, blowing out the candles in the center of the table. Immediately the pressure of the fingers disappeared and the eyes faded away, just inches from Alfred's. As his lungs began to function, the chill that had settled into his bones melted away. Everyone let out a breath of relief as they felt the change in temperature. Arthur had blinked when the candles went out and was now holding his head. Kiku placed a hand on the Briton's shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Kiku asked quietly as Arthur regained his senses. The green-eyed Englishman met his gaze, quietly placing a hand over Kiku's.

"I'm fine." He gave Kiku's hand a squeeze before turning his attention to the rest of the circle.

"What happened?"

Matthew was looking at his brother, worry etched into his features. Gilbert ran a hand through his platinum hair as Peter squirmed in his seat. Alfred was staring at the table, a hand on the back of his neck, trying to erase the icy touch that had been there previously.

"Something got into the circle that shouldn't have." Kiku informed him quietly. "And…" He glanced at the shell shocked Alfred.

"It seems to have taken an unusual interest in Alfred."

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><p><strong>Please Review! It makes me happy~! (heart)<strong>

**I tried really hard to make the seance scene more legit, I really did, but it was hard finding any good material for how to call spirits and stuff. Sorry if I got anything wrong. I am. ;_; **


	2. A Token of Affection

**Bwah! 20 reviews on the first chapter? (dies from the awesomeness)**

**But seriously guys, thanks so much for the support! One person had a question about the end of the last chapter and I'll put a note to clarify here real quick: Ivan was not possessing actually Arthur, only controlling him so he could stay in the circle. It's why he only used one hand to touch Alfred and not two. Does that make sense to you guys? (sadface) Sorry if anyone else was confused by that. Anyway, to the story.**

**Disclaimer: I do not have any ownership over the Hetalia series nor over any of the characters that appear in the story. If I did, RusAme would be SOOO canon.**

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><p>Alfred had tried to worm his way into the servant's quarters but Matthew had rejected his need for companionship and had left him outside his shack, cold and alone. His brother could be so heartless sometimes! He pouted as he curled himself into a ball under his sheets.<p>

He sighed as he remembered what Kiku had told him earlier before they left the barn.

ooo

_"Be careful," Kiku made sure that the colonist met his gaze before continuing, "We never closed the door connecting us to the spiritual plane and I doubt that the… _thing _that came into the circle will give up on you so easily."_

_Alfred shuddered, the violet eyes resurfacing in his mind's eye against his will. "What was it anyway? You said that it __should not __have been there earlier, right? Was it a…a demon?"_

_The dark night was perfect for bringing back the memories of his mother warning the two boys of monsters and demons leading them astray when they were younger. Maybe it was because of those stories about demons eating their flesh that had made Alfred so terrified of anything ghostlike._

_Kiku paused before turning away, "Just be careful."_

He shrieked and fell out of his bed when a stray breeze moaned against the walls of his little shack. Alfred quickly darted under his bed, forgetting momentarily about his mother's stories about monsters that lived under them, and curled into a ball. He soon fell asleep in that position.

ooOoo

"Wake up, time to get to work." An obnoxious voice interrupted Alfred's peaceful, food filled dreams. When his eyes opened the first thing he saw was a familiar albino grinning down at him. He blinked and sat up slowly, scratching his exposed stomach as the sheets pooled around his waist. From the open doorway past Gilbert, he could see that the sun was just starting to rise.

"How's it dawn already?" Alfred yawned out slowly as Gilbert grabbed the colonist's boots. The Prussian tossed said boots so that they would land beside the bed.

"It's dawn because the sun wanted to see my face." Gilbert bragged as Alfred rolled his eyes.

"You're starting to sound like Francis."

"Ha! That fruit wishes he could be as awesome as me!"

"Yeah, yeah," Alfred was just about to place his feet on the floor when he remembered last being under the bed. He glanced downwards at the floor, wondering how he had ended up back under the sheets.

Gilbert grinned at Alfred on his way out, "Don't forget to put on your pants!"

The pillow hit the door as it closed.

"That only happened once!"

The blonde-haired male huffed and quickly changed into his work clothes, his not-quite-right boots slipped on with minimal complaints. He would always swear up and down that they were just a little too small for him; they always felt like there was less space than there should be when he wore them but his brother said he was being critical for no reason.

Alfred yawned a second time on his way to the stables, his route lit by the slowly lightening sky. He could hear the horses inside already jostling around and he smiled. No rest for the weary any day of the week, it seemed.

"Hey, big brows!" He greeted one of the chocolate brown horses. The horse had an unfortunate name that also belonged to a certain Briton. So ever since he met Arthur, the human, he had taken to calling Arthur, the horse, a variety of nicknames having to do with eyebrows. Arthur, the human, found it insulting when he had figured out what Alfred was doing and had stopped talking to him for a week. That did not stop Alfred's tradition and so every day without fail he greeted the cool Arthur, the horse that is, with his rude nicknames.

The horse lifted its huge head over the barricade to nibble gently on Alfred's hair.

The blond laughed, "We've been through this before, my hair may be yellow but it isn't hay!"

He moved out of nibbling range and moved along the rest of the stalls. Some of the horses were still dozing in the far corners of their stalls while others were eager to greet Alfred as he passed. He gently stroked these early birds along the sides of their muzzles and laughed quietly when they reciprocated with energetic head bobbing or nuzzling.

Alfred had always loved horses, the rush when riding one was incomparable. The freedom he felt when he was on a horse made him feel like he was flying. Luckily, for him, he had helped at a local farm when he was younger which had given him plenty of experience for his current occupation. As well as assisting in labor around the estate, his chief job was to tend to the horses. A job he was all too happy to do any day of the week.

He picked up his faithful bucket, the one that housed his brushes and picks, and set to work grooming Bushy Brows.

ooOoo

Francis kept his eyes trained on the book in front of him, not showing any outward sign of hearing anything Arthur was saying.

The Briton felt the remnants of his composure shriveling as the Frenchman continued reading.

"Are you listening to anything I am saying?"

Francis merely waved his hand nonchalantly at him.

"Of course I am, go on."

The side of Arthur's mouth tried to twitch into a scowl but he forced it to remain in its neutral state and continued, "Like I was saying, the séance did produce results but it did not proceed in the manner we expected. While we were able to establish a connection, something… else came through."

The Frenchman glanced up from the book then, his face uncharacteristically serious, "Something else? Are you trying to be overly dramatic? You may look creepy but you're not fit for the role you're shooting for."

The last shreds of his control dissolved and he yelled, "What? I am being serious! A monster broke into the circle, and if that thing hadn't gotten distracted by Alfred who knows what it would've done!"

"A monster?"

"Yes! Exactly, a demon, a monster, a beast! We can't possibly try another séance anytime soon; God knows what else must've been drawn nearby due to its presence."

Francis paused before turning his attention to the window next to him, the pulled back royal blue curtains were covered in rhinestones and gaudy accessories. Sometimes Arthur wondered how the curtain rod had not already snapped from its weight. Francis' whole study was decorated to the point it was an eyesore at times.

"So you think that it is impossible to continue until when exactly?" The Bonnefoy asked slowly.

"Two weeks would be the minimal time frame necessary, but it could take much longer than that."

"Unacceptable!" Francis' head spun around, his wavy locks bouncing as he jabbed a finger at the Briton, "That's too long, just chase away whatever's around and try again."

"With what? I'm not a bloody priest!"

Francis scoffed, "I should think that since no living person can stand your presence for long that a ghoul should be no problem for you to scare away on purpose."

"Are you trying to irritate me today?" Arthur managed to ground out as the Frenchman flipped his hair.

ooOoo

Alfred picked out stray bits of gravel and muck from the corners of the hooves. The painted mare he was currently working on contentedly waited for him to finish. When he deemed her hoof was free of debris he released it and stuck the pick into one of his pockets. He walked up to the front of the horse, patting the side of her neck.

He heard one of the horses cry out sharply, flinching at the sound before hurrying to the door. As he exited, he saw the horse Arthur shaking in agitation.

"Arthur? You alright?" He asked aloud, hurrying past the stables to attend to the stallion.

As he got closer, the horse pressed up against the gate to his pen and reached his large head over to the blond. Hesitantly, Alfred patted the horse's head, wondering what had upset him. He was about to pull away when he saw something out of the corner of his eye and looked down. On the dusty floor of the stables were dark patches of red liquid. As his brain deciphered it, a small droplet of the substance was added. Was it…?

He tilted his head to the side. In the dim lighting he saw a small scrape along the side of Arthur's neck.

"Blood," the word escaped through his lips.

A loud, clattering noise caught his attention and Alfred quickly turned to see his supply bucket roll across the floor outside the pen he had just been in. He always left his bucket outside the pens when he was tending the horses so if anyone came looking for him for whatever reason they'd know where he was. He swallowed a dry breath and debated with himself over what to do. As much as his feet wanted to go running for the daylight outside, his conscious shot down the notion. It was his job to take care of the horses and he was not going to go running for hills like an idiot just because a breeze knocked over his bucket.

Alfred chose to ignore the fact that there had not been a breeze earlier and began the tense walk back to the tipped supplies. When he was next to it he paused, paranoia overriding his thoughts. After a moment, he crouched down to pick up the bucket.

It was only after he had started gathering his tools that he had the feeling that something was watching him. It felt strangely familiar to him and without warning the memory of gleaming violet eyes appeared in his mind. Alfred froze, his body stiffened as he fully registered his situation. There might or might not be a demon behind him: a scary, freaking demon. A monster that might just have tricked Alfred into going further into the stable to separate him from the only exit.

He heard the dull thud of boots approaching him and he looked at the ground in front of him hesitantly, trying to decide what to do. Alfred's heart thudded loudly in his throat and he was certain that he was starting to tremble. The hand that was on the bucket tightened fractionally.

When the footsteps sounded like they were right behind him he leapt to his feet, raising the bucket above his head to get ready to hit whatever was behind him.

A pair of violet eyes was the first thing he saw but the blond hair that he registered next was familiar. Why was- _oh crap, it's Matthew! _Alfred somehow managed to stop the arc of his bucket-wielding arm from bludgeoning his twin.

Matthew flinched backwards, a quiet yelp of surprise escaping him.

The twins stood there for a moment, one frozen in shock and the other wondering what he should do to explain himself without getting yelled at. Alfred laughed awkwardly, lowering his arm as his brother stared at him.

"Hey Mattie, you would not believe how close I came to attacking you with this. You seriously scared the living shit out of me, y'know? You should have said something."

Alfred could have sworn he saw his brother's eye twitch before he groaned quietly.

"I said your name."

"You did?" Alfred replied, honestly surprised.

Matthew paused before answering, "Forget it. What were you doing? Crouching on the ground like that? Are you sick?"

"Huh? Oh, no. I was just, uh, thinking." He replied, looking down at the tools in his bucket. His twin's eyes narrowed slightly as he raised an eyebrow. He obviously was not buying it.

"Does this have something to do with last night?" When Alfred did not reply, he sighed. "Alfred, I'm sorry about what happened to you but you shouldn't worry so much about it. It's not going to show up and try to steal your soul."

"That doesn't comfort me at all." Alfred said bluntly, not missing his twin's annoyed frown. "Why're you here anyway?"

Almost immediately Matthew blushed and slouched as if he was trying to curl into himself, not meeting his brother's eyes.

It took Alfred several seconds to figure it out, "Were you worried about me? Aw, Mattie!" He leapt forward to hug his brother; a quiet squeak from the meeker twin was all Alfred heard before he began laughing loudly. "You shouldn't have been; heroes like me can take care of themselves!"

Matthew sighed, patting his brother's back softly, hoping his brother would let go soon. It was not that he did not like being hugged, he just couldn't breathe. After Matthew's lungs were allowed to function properly, Alfred decided that it was time to take a lunch break and led them out of the stables.

ooOoo

"I can't believe they let _him _cook." Alfred groaned later, clutching his stomach on their way back to work. Matthew shook his head as his brother made pitiful noises.

"You didn't have to eat it."

"Well I didn't know that it was toxic until Arthur showed up in an apron!"

Matthew decided not to point out that the meat in the stew had been obviously charred, which Alfred would have noticed if he had not been stuffing his face. He did not voice his criticism on his brother's sense of taste and let his sibling complain about his stomach freely. When they parted at the backdoor to the manor, Matthew going inside, Alfred found that his complaints were not as satisfying without an audience.

It was when he had reached the stables that he noticed an odd smell. He paused in the entrance, wrinkling his nose. It was not especially strong, but it was noticeable to the point that even Alfred could not ignore it. He frowned as he walked in to pick up the bucket, wondering what could be causing the smell. When he got close enough to see into his tool bucket he stopped, blinking in disbelief as he absorbed what he seeing. A hand shot to his mouth before he ran back out of the stables, his stomach threatening to empty itself on his way out.

In his tool bucket there had been a dead bird, its beak and eyes wide open. Flies were already investigating its body. But what made Alfred run out was the fact that its mouth had been stuffed with wildflowers, a rotting mockery of a bouquet.

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><p><strong>Please review~! It makes me happy! :D Oh, would anyone like to start betaing for me? I have someone who does it for me currently, but I kinda want someone who actually knows the characters personalities and is into Hetalia.<strong>


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